The ABCs of Life Lessons Learned During Shore Leave on Earth
by Cumberbatch Critter
Summary: For whatever reason, Spock ends up on shore leave on EARTH. He ends up on shore leave on earth, staying with his CAPTAIN. What on earth could go wrong? They're about to find out. Series of oneshots, each beginning with a letter of the alphabet. Fluff. Rated for language and mild guy talk.
1. Always Bring an Umbrella

**The ABCs of Lessons Learned During Shore Leave on Earth**

_**Always Bring An Umbrella**_

"Well, it would have been nice to know that _it was going to rain today_!" Kirk said, raising his voice towards the end of the sentence.

"Raising your voice will not aid in ceasing the rain, Captain."

Kirk sighed in a breathy rush, leaning back against the brick. "Damn weathermen always get the forecast wrong. Always."

"Weather is a delicate, very unpredictable line of-"

"Don't stick up for them, Spock. We're lucky we found this place."

'This place' happened to be an old abandoned building with an awning that was servicing as a shield from the rain. It had, all of sudden, started to rain. Not mist, not even a sprinkle, but full-blown torrential rain and the forecast today said that it would miss Kirk's hometown. See what they knew. Of course Kirk hadn't brought an umbrella and now he was trapped under an old building's awning with his Vulcan first officer.

Spock gave what seemed to be a repressed huff, shifting his weight only the slightest amount.

Kirk looked at him. "What? If this is about my bitching about the weather-"

"Rain merely makes me uncomfortable," Spock returned, his gaze straight ahead as it had been.

The answer threw Kirk off guard. "What? Why?"

Spock glanced at him. "Vulcan is a desert planet. An excess of water tends to make me... the equivalent of 'nervous', I should say."

"Oh." Kirk thought. "Why? If you're from the desert, shouldn't rain make you pleased because there's water?"

"Vulcans prefer dry and dusty to wet and muddy. Myself included." Spock paused. "There are always the obvious reasons that I dislike the rain as well. Clothing retains liquid to a certain extent, rendering the fabric sopping and heavy. Water droplets are capable of clinging to one's eyelashes, obscuring the line of vision. Torrential rain such as this can produce flash floods at an alarmingly quick rate."

"Yeah..." Kirk agreed, looking back at the rain. "But it has its benefits."

Spock arched an eyebrow, looking at Kirk again. "You were complaining about it not three moments ago."

"No, I was complaining about the weathermen not getting it right," Kirk said, rolling his eyes. "I'm not complaining about the rain. I like the rain... whenever I don't have to be in it. I mean, sitting inside a warm, cozy house, listening to the rain patter against the roof? That's nice. Opening your windows after a spring rain and smelling the fresh scent? That's the good stuff right there. You don't get that in space, Spock."

Spock contemplated that for a moment before looking back to the rain. "I suppose I concur on the peaceful noise that rain can produce. And the smell is not entirely unpleasant. It brings a strange notion of an impending sneeze, however."

Kirk smiled lazily. "That it does. It's not bad, though."

"Affirmative. Earth rain is... quite tolerable." Spock paused. "Although perhaps bringing an umbrella would be a positive action to partake in next time."

Kirk sighed. "Damn weathermen..."

* * *

**So, for whatever reason, you just have to imagine that, for this fic, Spock ends up on shore leave on _earth_. With Kirk. Because I think Spock in a domestic setting, away from the ship, is just adorable.**

**If you follow me for any of my _Sherlock_ stories, this story is going to be a bit like _He's Only Ever Human_. Each letter will be used for each chapter. Each chapter will be _un_related, unless stated. Unlike _He's Only Ever Human_, these will not be emotions, but 'lessons', per se, and a) the chapters will be in alphabetical order and b) only have one chapter per letter.**

**Basically, it's going to be 26 chapters of domestic!Spock and Kirk.**

**I do not own _Star Trek_. Thank you!**


	2. Bring Your Own Beverage

**_Bring your own beverage_**

"Captain?"

Spock hesitantly slipped his arm around Kirk's torso, steeling himself a half second before the _Enterprise's_ Captain slumped against him.

"Spock. Spock... sock." Kirk laughed to himself and Spock felt the laughter tremor through Kirk's body.

Spock repositioned his hold on the man, steeling himself before draping one of Kirk's arms around his own shoulders.

All Spock had been doing was enjoying a quiet night to himself. Jim's home in Iowa was not unpleasant and the attic made for a sensational place to meditate. It was warm and cozy, and maybe just a touch too dusty, but a few candles and black paper over the small window made it ideal for meditation.

And then, suddenly, Kirk had hailed him on the communicator, breaking the silence of the attic, startling him out of his meditation. And the conversation that they had had then had been very much like the conversation that Kirk was trying to have now.

Spock had, like a good... friend... wiped the sheen of sweat from his forehead, traced the coordinates of Kirk's call, and tracked him down at a party. Apparently, the beverages there had been... spiked, Spock believed was the word that Kirk kept trying to say. (He kept saying 'spocked', actually, but spike, Spock... Spock could see how the words became jumbled in Kirk's drunken mind. Alcohol was destructive.)

"Captain, walking requires moving your feet in such a pattern as left foot in front of the right," Spock said testily, trying to get Kirk to the street so that they could hail a cab.

Spock didn't like his personal space being invaded. While Kirk always stepped into his personal space for whatever reason- Kirk didn't seem like to _public_ space and chose to jump right into the _private_- Spock could handle that. He was, dare he say, _used_ to it. However, certain things were off limits.

His cabin on the _Enterprise_, for instance. Unless there was good reason or advanced warning- even simply buzzing the door was fine- Spock hated it when people (namely Kirk) barged into his quarters.

Physical touch was not good, either. Touch telepathy made physical contact... unwelcome. It wasn't like Spock couldn't control or handle it, but it just made him uncomfortable.

"Captain. Jim."

"Spock, why you gotta be so... _stuffy_?" Kirk slurred.

Spock swallowed back a retort and shifted Kirk's weight uncomfortably. "Endeavour to pick up your feet, Captain, lest I will be forced to carry you."

Kirk giggled- literally giggled. The noise grinded on Spock's ears and made the hair stand up on the back of his neck. He clenched his teeth and resisted the urge to give Jim a neck pinch and leave his body on a bench somewhere. Friends indeed.

* * *

Morning came to pass with the sound of Kirk's stocking feet pounding against the hardwood floor as he ran to the bathroom. Spock was awake at the time, his arms folded beneath his head and his gaze on the ceiling, and didn't miss the unmistakable sound of vomiting a second later.

Only after the vomiting had passed and there were no footsteps again did Spock push himself into a sitting position, and get to his feet. He padded down the hallway without a sound- he knew exactly where each and every one of Kirk's squeaky floorboards were- and only paused for a moment outside of the open bathroom door before peering around the door frame.

"Captain."

Kirk looked up from his place on the floor next to the toilet. His pallor was an unhealthy shade, his eyes were glistening, and his fingers were rubbing tight circles against his temples.

"Spock... What the hell happened last night..."

"You seemed to have been invited to a party, at which you said to me that the, quote, punch had been spiked. You were highly inebriated. I came to find you and directed you back home."

Jim didn't react to the words, just blinked slowly. He reminded Spock of an owl, although Spock didn't say so.

"Captain?"

Kirk placed his head in his hands. "Yes. Drunk. Great. Shit. That explains the hangover. I knew I shouldn't have drunk that punch..."

"It would seem highly illogical to drink something of which you did not know the origins."

"There's a lesson to be learned here," Kirk murmured. "Bring your own drinks to the party."

"I will keep this in mind... if I ever feel the need to go to a party," Spock replied.

Kirk managed a weak smile before throwing up again.


	3. Celebrating One's Birth

_**C**__**elebrating One's Birthday is Important**_

"Captain's birthday is during shore leave this year, you know?"

Spock looked away from the console disinterestedly. "Yes. What is your point?"

"I thought, well, I dunno, maybe we all could do a little somethin' nice for the laddy."

"I was under the impression that you were travelling to Scotland during shore leave," Spock said, looking back at the transporter console. "If your log is correct."

"Aye, 'tis correct. And McCoy's goin' ta see Joanna. What are ye doing during Captain's birthday, Commander?"

"I will be aboard the _Enterprise_, assessing specimens of plant life and sifting through journals. There," Spock said, stepping away from the console.

"Aye... But duncha think we ought to do _somethin'_? And ye and Jim are friends. He's goin' ta be alone. I'm sure he wouldn't mind the company."

* * *

It was so that Spock found himself in a shuttlecraft, stonily perusing digital records on his PADD. Somehow, he always ended up on shore leave- when he didn't want to be on shore leave- on earth- a simplistic place with a multitude of illogical actions- with Kirk- someone whom he had come to trust and call his friend, but Spock didn't know how to deal with a birthday.

He'd picked up on things. The crew of the _Enterprise_ had been talking about a cake and presents. Apparently, it was earth tradition to sing a song, suitably titled _Happy Birthday to You_. Games were involved sometimes- menial, childish games for the young and games that involved sex or alcohol for the adults. It all sounded like a waste of time to Spock.

Still... It was a human tradition and Spock was on earth. He was on the human's planet with one of the few humans that he called 'friend'. It felt... impolite not to take part of customs set long before Spock's time.

He wasn't well-versed on gift-giving and much less on baking. Still, after three hours of window shopping in London, Spock was rewarded with more than cold fingers and toes.

"Come on, let's go in," Kirk murmured, rubbing his gloved hands together. "It's cold and I want to see the new stuff. Haven't been here in awhile."

Spock followed Kirk into the shoppe- it was a space travel outlet- resisting the urge to sigh as heat blasted him in the face. By design, Spock hated cold weather and January in England was nowhere near the temperature of Vulcan by any means. He fumbled with his sock hat, unsuccessfully trying to smooth down his hair after he had taken it off. He hated the hat, but his ears were warm and toasty with it. Kirk had only made fun of him for a limited amount of time, as well, so Spock had counted it as a success. He removed his gloves as he trailed after his Captain, shoving everything into his coat pocket.

"_Spock_. Look at _that_."

From Kirk's tone of voice, Spock could hazard a guess that the Captain had found an attractive woman to ogle at yet again. However, when he dismissively glanced up, he found Kirk staring into a display. Curiosity made him join the Captain, his eyes following Kirk's gaze.

"It's a _brand-new_ model communicator. Isn't she beautiful?" Kirk asked.

The awe was apparent in Kirk's voice and Spock was inclined to agree. It was only logical to stay up-to-date with the latest trends in technology. The communicator was a newly-tested, high-priced, but extremely reliable communicator. Long-range communication, better signals, more options than the current model.

Spock glanced at Kirk before stepping up. "Excuse me," he said, stepping in front of Jim to the digital screen next to the display. Spock typed in his all-access personal pin, chose the colour (gold), and charged the expensive amount of money to his account. He picked up the receipt that printed from the display and walked to the countertop. The sales clerk took the receipt, vanished into the backroom, and returned momentarily with the communicator.

"Have a wonderful day," the clerk chirped.

Spock turned around to face Kirk, who was ogling him with wide eyes. He held the communicator with a straight-face.

"I wish to congratulate you on living to see yet another year in your lifetime," he said emotionlessly.

Kirk still looked confused, and surprised, but he swiped the communicator from Spock's hands without asking. "Is this your way of saying 'happy birthday'? You bought me the new communicator? Spock, this thing is disgustingly expensive! Holy shit." Jim had taken to turning the communicator over in his hands, hesitantly flipping it open. "Spock..."

"As I am unacquainted with earth baking, would buying you coffee suffice for a birthday treat in lieu of not having a birthday cake?" Spock inquired.

Kirk looked up again, blinking a few times. "What? Coffee- _oh_, yes, no, I mean, you don't have to buy me coffee." He looked back at the communicator. "This is enough. This is... way too much."

"Captain, I really must insist that we follow this tradition similarly to the norm. Coffee and biscuits would suffice, or perhaps stopping by the pastry shoppe."

He kept his voice purposefully flat. He couldn't let emotion seep into his words, lest the awkwardness consume him. He chose not to feel at all in fear of what he may feel. Friendship was a fickle thing and the emotions involved often overloaded Spock's mind.

"Alright... Pastry shoppe, then," Kirk said without giving it a thought. He looked back at his communicator. "You can sync this with everyone else's, yeah?"

"Affirmative."

"Awesome." Kirk paused. "You know, um..." He cleared his throat. "Thanks. For... this."

"Yes... Partaking in human customs every now and then isn't terribly inconveniencing."

Even if they made him feel absolutely ridiculous in the long run.

* * *

**Wow, there's been some positive reaction on this story. That makes me really very happy. Thank you a lot. Anyway, this chapter: maybe a bit too emotional for Spock. It's difficult to write emotionless Spock trying to 'celebrate' Jim's birthday. But hopefully I captured the awkwardness with human customs and their awkward friendship after _Into Darkness_. And Spock in a sock hat and gloves- casual wear- is one of the cutest mental pictures ever. I mean, _ST: TOS_ managed to work the sock hat into their amazing production, but just imagine if Quinto!Spock had a sock hat with fuzzy tassles on it. :p**

**I do not own _Star Trek_. Thank you!**


	4. Don't Eat Yellow Snow

_**D**__**on't eat yellow snow**_

Spock couldn't help the involuntary gasp that rushed past his lips as freezing cold pellets of frozen water hit his face.

"Gotcha!"

Kirk's voice was gleeful; it was meant to be a prank, Spock was sure, but he found it far below humour level.

Snow was cold and Spock hated snow. Both of these things were logical. Snow was frozen water. Spock came from an arid planet. And yet, Kirk thought it humorous to pelt him in the face with a snowball.

He gave his Captain a disgruntled look and swept the snow from his face, his gloved fingers quickly catching the melting snow and drying it off.

"Another one of human's activities. Snowball fight," he said, shoving his hands in his pockets. "Earth traditions continue to astound me. This is yet another one that I do not enjoy."

"Come on, Spock. It'd be fun if you wanted to play."

"I do not."

Kirk blew out a breath of annoyance, the sigh turning to condensation in the air. "Yeah, I can see that. We should make a snowman."

"If you wish, Captain, you can. I will be inspecting the fountain for bacteria," Spock said, turning away.

"Aw, no, Spock, come _on_! At least stay here so I don't look like an idiot!" Kirk said, but he was already rolling snow up to form the base of a snow-figure.

Spock quirked an eyebrow. "I was under the impression that it did not bother you, given how you act aboard the _Enterprise_."

Kirk rolled his eyes, but it was clear that he was enjoying himself in the winter wonderland that was the city park during winter. He liked the snow.

Spock did not. Still, for a lack of anything to do while waiting, he brushed the snow off of a bench and took a seat.

His tricorder stated that this snow had fallen only within the past two hours. There had been minimal life in this part of the park since then. The snow was untouched and fresh. It was light and fluffy as it fell, but quickly formed into snow that was correct for packing.

A quick glance up showed that Kirk had rolled the base of the snow-figure, and was now on the middle.

"It seems illogical to call it a snowman," Spock murmured- to himself- before looking back at his tricorder.

This snow would last approximately for two point three days. The temperatures would be barely warm enough to melt the snow, but the amount of people that traversed the park was taken into consideration for his assumption.

"Don't eat yellow snow!" Kirk said loudly.

Spock looked up. "Pardon me?"

"Don't eat yellow snow," Kirk repeated, grinning as though this was the most humorous thing that he had said all day.

"Snow is not coloured yellow," Spock said hesitantly, unsure where Jim was taking the conversation. "The only way for snow to achieve such colour is through a secondary stimulus."

"Exactly," Kirk said, picking up the smaller snowball that would be the top of the snowman. "Now think about what secondary stimuli are yellow," he said, brushing snow from his gloves.

"The category is vague. There are many things that are of the colour yellow."

Kirk rolled his eyes, finding two twigs from a nearby tree. "Have you ever taken a leak in the snow, Spock?"

The answer should have been fairly obvious, given that Spock hated snow and that the only proper place for urination was in a lavatory. It clicked, then, what Kirk meant when he said not to consume the aforementioned item.

"... It would be a logical choice to avoid any oddly-coloured snow," he said shortly. "Personal preference dictates that it is a logical choice to avoid snow at all costs, Captain."

Kirk sighed, adding two pieces of rock for the snowman's eyes. "Fine. We can leave. It just needs..." He pressed his finger into the snowman's top, tracing out a smile. "There."

"Is it possible to return to your home?" Spock asked, fluidly getting to his feet as Kirk joined him.

"I guess. You're really exciting to be around when it snows." Sarcasm. "Not that you're exciting to be around, anyway." Teasing tone.

Spock didn't smile, as per usual, but he could have easily reciprocated the sentiment.

* * *

**Kirk already acts remarkably childish in some situations, so I figured he'd probably act even more childishly if he was put in a snowy environment. Because who doesn't, besides Spock.**

**I do not own _Star Trek_. Thank you!**


	5. Excessive Consumption of Soda

** _Excessive consumption of soda before/at the cinema is frowned upon._**

The film was uninteresting at worst, but action-packed at best. It had its good moments and its bad moments, Spock thought, as he shifted his position uncomfortably in the seat. Kirk had talked him into visiting the cinema for some movie that _he_ had wanted to see. Spock had no interest, but the lure of analysing popcorn on earth or experiencing a cinema first-hand had drawn him in. It was nearly as he had expected. The movie, however, _was_ better than he had expected. Mind-numbingly tedious was what he had expected. It wasn't _much_ better, but Spock was sure that it could be much worse.

Not being wholly dedicated to the film, Spock let his mind wander around the darkened room. Humans did not generally watch television in the dark at their homes, and they did not watch television in the dark on the _Enterprise_. The experienced was enhanced with darkness, coupled with the big screen, but couldn't have the intended effect of movie-going been achieved with the lights on?

Spock looked again at Kirk as the man shifted impatiently.

The seats were not comfortable, nor uncomfortable, but they had nothing to the seats on their starship. However, Kirk's insistance to fidget seemed more than a stiff neck or pain in the back. It was distracting at best and downright annoying at worst. It was easy to guess the common denominator, adding in the fact that Kirk had been noisily consuming a rather large sugary drink during the movie.

Kirk glanced at him, catching his eyes in the semi-darkness. "Would you stop staring at me? It's creeping me out," he whispered, rubbing the back of his neck absently.

"You are distracting," Spock replied bluntly.

"Sorry that I have to piss," Kirk said, voice sarcastic. "I just want to..." he trailed off, his eyes locking back onto the screen as an explosion rocked the landscape. "... see this part..."

"It would be beneficial to your concentration to rid yourself of distracting stimuli."

"Shh."

Mentally giving an eyeroll- but not physically stooping to such levels- Spock looked back to the screen. The movie wasn't that enticing and Kirk certainly wasn't comfortable.

Nonetheless, it wasn't Spock's problem and he dismissed it... at least, until Kirk started fidgeting again five minutes later.

It was a _long_ movie.

Kirk was still the first one out of the room when the movie ended, not waiting up on Spock, and when he resurfaced from the bathroom to find the Vulcan leaning against the wall stoically, grinned in response.

"Good movie," he said as he joined him.

Spock chose not to respond. He counted the whole experience as an uneventful, unproductive one hundred and eighty minutes. Coupled with the fact that he had spent thirty-seven of those minutes trying to tune Kirk out- everytime he had moved, the seat had squeaked, and their sleeves had brushed together on the armrest until Spock had removed his hand- Spock had a bit of a headache.

Meditation was in order, it seemed, although one thing was for certain: he wouldn't be drinking anything before he sat down to a movie in the near future.

(Not that he planned on going to the cinema again in the near future, anyway. But certainly without a beverage and certainly without Kirk.)

* * *

**Because _every damn time_. There must be something in the pop at the cinemas.**

**Of course, I realise that this is the 23rd century and their cinemas would most likely not be a _thing_ like we know them, but for the sake of law and order in fiction, imagine a futuristic cinema. With robot butlers to get you popcorn or drinks. Yeah.**

**I do not own _Star Trek_. Thank you!**


	6. Friends Don't Let Friends

_**F**__**riends don't let friends date aliens.**_

"If you want... we could go back to my room at the hotel."

The silky female voice was obviously meant to bring out the lust in any male and, on Jim Kirk, it was clearly working.

"I would _love_-"

"Captain, we are needed aboard the _Enterprise_," Spock said, striding to Kirk's side and stopping next to the bar stool.

Kirk looked up. "What? Why?" He looked between Spock and the woman. "We're not due off of leave for another five hours."

"Mr. Scott contacted me moments ago."

Kirk's frowned deepened to new depths. He looked crushed, if Spock were being metaphorical. "Son of a _bitch_. Stupid... _starship_!" Kirk griped, looking back at the woman. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. Can we pick up later, I mean, what's your number? I can call."

"I do not possess a thing called a phone on my home planet. And it would be impossible to contact me due to interplanetary communications restrictions. I regret that you must leave, Jim Kirk..." the female said, leaning forward.

Kirk grinned with all of his boyish charm and leaned forward to meet the kiss.

Spock's hand snapped out before he could stop himself. He gripped Kirk's shoulder and pulled him away from the impending display of affection (or in Jim Kirk's case, lust).

"Spock! What the hell?" Kirk demanded, frowning at him, looking at his hand on his shoulder, and then back to Spock.

"Mr. Scott was most insistent," Spock explained.

Kirk stood up so quickly that Spock would have flinched if he were a normal human being. Being that he wasn't, he stayed perfectly still, although his hand had fallen off by default.

"Where's the fire?" he griped, swivelling away from Spock. "Really, I'm sorry. I've got to go figure this out. If it's nothing, I hope I can see you later."

With that, he turned and strode away, Spock trailing behind.

"What the hell's going on, Spock? _Damn_. I know that you're... _inhuman_ and-and don't understand all this crap-"

"On the contrary, Captain, I understand more than you."

Kirk's nostrils flared in anger. "You don't understand it at _all_. Of all the people I get stuck on shore leave with-"

"The female that you were in communications with was a _Leanus tantalus_," Spock interrupted.

Kirk drew to such a sharp stop that Spock had to turn around and look at his Captain.

"You're _joking_!" he exclaimed, looking with wide eyes at Spock. "She was- _ew_!" Kirk rubbed his hands on his pants. "Gross, gross, gross!"

Spock raised an eyebrow. "That was why I endeavoured to stop you and her from partaking in a public display of affection. Or any display of affection, given the complications that would ensue should you two had touched lips."

"Why didn't you tell me? I think I want to have a shower now..."

"Mental leeching only occurs after the _tantalus_ and the opposite species partake in-"

"I _know_, but I..." Spock watched Kirk _visibly_ shiver. "Agh." He sighed. "Thanks... I guess. For interrupting. I never thought I'd ever say those words to you," he muttered.

Spock raised his head slightly. "You are welcome."

Kirk shoved his hands in his pockets, sulking. "So, what's going with Scotty?"

Spock tilted his head slightly, although he didn't say anything.

"Spock?" Kirk looked at him before he stopped again. "Oh. You _lied_."

"I exaggerated," Spock allowed, lengthening his stride.

Kirk grinned again, like a adrenalin-loving lunatic, bouncing after Spock. "You did all that on purpose so I wouldn't get brainwashed. So she couldn't kiss me." He laughed and the sound crawled unnaturally up Spock's spine.

"It was logical," Spock replied tersely.

"Mhmm. Friends don't let friends date mental capacity-leeching aliens?" Kirk's tone was teasing.

"It would be a disagreeable turn of events if the _tantalus_ had leeched your mind. Starfleet would be losing a mind that is..."

"Yeah? What's my mind like, Spock?"

"... Special," Spock finished shortly, not looking back.

"Special? Wait- special good or special bad? Spock? Spock!"

* * *

**Poor Kirk can't find a _normal_ woman. He's just stuck with his analytical, semi-unfeeling Vulcan first officer. :p Oh well. Friendship fluff is so much better than Kirk/OC romance, in my opinion.**

**I do not own _Star Trek_. Thank you!**


	7. Ghost Stories

**_Ghost stories bring out the paranoia in human beings_.**

Spock's breaths were an even rhythm, a soft inhale and exhale that barely broke the silence of the night surrounding him.

That was, until a loud snap broke the otherwise silence.

"Spock!"

Spock slowly opened his eyes, blinking wearily. He hadn't slept in a few days and he had fallen into unconsciousness quickly, only to now be woken by, assumingly, Captain Kirk.

"Hmmm?" Spock queried, trying to force his eyes to stay open.

"Did you hear that?"

"No," Spock replied bluntly, letting his eyes slip shut.

He was just about to fall asleep again when he became aware that something had suddenly grasped his wrist. He wrenched his eyes open and prepared to launch an attack if necessary when he realised that it was only Captain Kirk that had grabbed his wrist.

"Sorry," Kirk said, releasing his wrist and wringing his own hands together. "I just-"

"It is the wind," Spock intoned, over the snapping of a twig outside of their tent. He stifled a yawn and pushed himself into a sitting position, wondering how or why he had to experience this situation.

Technically, they were on shore leave. But there had been an opportunity to assess a location for the computer data's sake and Spock had taken the opportunity. He would rather remain busy than partake in idleness. But, by default, since Spock was staying with Kirk on leave, Kirk was elected to join him.

Not that he had minded. He had been all _let's go camping, Spock! I have a tent, Spock! This is going to be fun, Spock!_ with all of his usual enthusiasm. As it were, Spock had no intention of being a 'practical', as Kirk called it, camping partner. Spock was more than satisfied to sit and inspect flora then tell ghost stories. Not to be dissuaded, Kirk had delved into his ghost story book without so much as a glance towards Spock when he didn't comment on the literature.

Eventually, Kirk had fallen into silence, reading to himself. He seemed thoughtful, interested. His eyes were locked on the book and he licked his thumb every so often, flicking a page every now and then. His gaze was intent, although every so often, Spock could spot a shiver take the Captain's frame.

It would be comical, if Spock felt humour, to watch his Captain completely _terrify_ himself but still continue to read all the same.

_This_ was the product.

"It wasn't windy earlier," Kirk whispered.

Another gust of wind (unheard by Captain Kirk) caused twigs to rustle and even some leaves to be swept up against the tent. Due to Kirk not hearing the wind (or only focussing on the other stimuli), he once again reacted in the frightened response- gripping Spock's sleeve.

Spock raised an eyebrow. "Is this the correct response to _all_ ghost stories?"

Kirk glared at him halfheartedly, but didn't immediately remove his tenuous grip from Spock's black Starfleet sleepwear. "Maybe. I don't know. Isn't it logical, after all we've seen, to think that _maybe_ there's something paranormal out there?"

"I am not sure that logical is the word," Spock replied, removing his sleeve from Kirk's grasp. "What was the title of the book that you were so indulged in?"

"_Haunted Iowa_," Kirk replied, reaching for the book. "I know some of these places, Spock. It's freaky."

Spock took the offered book, flipping to the first story. "I must remark that this seems like idle-minded literature."

Kirk made a sort of wounded noise, prompting Spock to turn the page. It was a learning experience, Spock reasoned. His actions were determined by logic; it was only logical to see what had frightened Captain Kirk so badly.

By the time that he had finished the first story, Spock was no longer tired, merely intrigued.

"Here, let me read," Kirk muttered, sidling closer to Spock.

Spock's barriers immediately went up, tension radiating throughout his body. This was simply another instance of his ignorant Captain blatantly disregarding Spock's personal space boundaries. He forced himself to relax, looking at Kirk with a raised eyebrow. "You have read this already. If I recall, you have been flinching at every loud noise and yet, you wish to read it again?"

"Of course," Kirk replied, grinning widely. "That's the thrill of ghost stories! There's no explanation and it's just as freaky every other time. Come on, let's keep reading."

"Fascinating," Spock muttered, holding the book out awkwardly so they both could read.

* * *

**I don't know why or how they would really end up camping, but the explanation isn't necessary in a story like this. Anyway, ghost stories. What else sort of past-time goes with camping? Besides s'mores. And I may work s'mores into this story at some point just because it's a cute mental picture.**

**Thank you!**


	8. Humans Become Disagreeable When

**_H_****_umans become irritable when lacking normality._**

Spock raised an eyebrow as he looked back at Kirk.

Kirk caught his gaze. "What?" he demanded, curling his arms around his stomach. "I'm starving. I'm used to eating whenever I want on the ship." His stomach growled again and he groaned, thumping his head back against the wall with a hollow sounding _thud_.

"The logical action, Captain, would be to consume-"

"I know the logical response, Spock; did you forget that there's people working on the kitchen because someone went and screwed with the dials on the washing machine?"

"That was not my fault-"

"The whole kitchen's a mess because of the stupid water damage and there's so many _people_ packed into it that I could walk through there to get to my fridge, which had to be conveniently unplugged so it didn't short-circuit!"

"That was not my fault," Spock said stubbornly, licking his thumb to turn the page in the novel he was reading.

"You were messing with the washing machine; it is your fault!"

"I was going to put the dials back to their proper designated area if you hadn't distracted me by falling down the stairs."

"I didn't fall; I tripped," Kirk retorted.

"Captain, you slipped on one of the magazines on the floor in the hallway and fell directly down fourteen stairsteps because you could not proceed to either retain your balance or find a grip of stability on the stair banister. I do not know any other definition of 'falling'... although perhaps the more suitable term would be 'tumbling', given the excess of your flailing limbs." Spock turned another page in his book. "Perhaps you should keep a more presentable home, lest your guests trip over such objects."

"If you fell down the stairs, I'd laugh," Kirk intoned.

Spock would have replied if it had not been for Kirk's stomach growling in the short silence that ensued. There was certain smug satisfaction in hearing Kirk sigh in annoyance, but Spock's expression didn't betray him. He was stone-faced as usual, although there was something close to a flutter of humour buried deep in his human side that had perked its ears up at his Captain's stomach growling.

"Perhaps it would be wise to order something out."

Kirk gave him a dirty look. "_Money_, Spock."

Spock looked up, raising an eyebrow. "You seem to have an excess of it, given the amount of potentially useless objects sitting around your home."

"Spock, if you say one more word- I _told_ you that the clothes were in the second drawer, not the first!"

"That wasn't exactly my point," Spock replied, his fingers fluidly folding the edge of the page he was on. He closed his book silently. "Captain, I believe that this... whining is an attempt to coerce me into paying for a dinner of some sort."

Kirk's face, as was the popular human metaphor, lit up like a Christmas tree. "Spock? Look, listen, two pizzas is all. And you can make the second one your vegetarian shit. We'll call the washing machine thing a draw then."

"You seem adamant not to take blame for an accident that was clearly caused by your own faults," Spock said, "but I will accept your offer if I do not have to continue to hear about it." He stood and straightened his shirt. "My access code is on the back of my card. Well-done, extra peppers, no pepperoni, sausage, bacon or ham whatsoever. Do not sabotage the food that I am paying for by forgetting to omit the Canadian bacon like you did last time. I will be in my quarte- my room."

Kirk grinned and reached for the phone.

* * *

**Thinking up a pizza order for Spock is _difficult_ because it's so... unnatural. But cute. You know. There's more Spock + human food in the upcoming chapters. Ice cream, namely, and s'mores... and a little bit of drama is planned, too.**

**Thank you!**


	9. Ice Cream- That is All

_**I**__**ce Cream. That is all.**_

"Try it."

"I do not wish to."

"It's melting, damn it! I paid for it, at least try it!"

"I stressed the fact that I did not wish you to spend your money on it."

"And I did, anyway. Try _it_ before you _wear it_."

"Captain, threats on my behalf are illogical, seeing as how-"

Spock's speech was shoved to a halt as, suddenly, too quickly, the ice cream cone he was holding was smashed directly against his lips. He gasped silently in shock, the ice-cold explosion against his lips making his skin tingle.

It was only afterwards that he realised that Kirk had gripped the cone and shoved it against his lips in attempts to make him try the ice cream.

"Your face...!" Kirk was laughing.

Spock furiously scrubbed the back of his hand against his lips, trying to scrub away the lingering cold. "That was unnecessary and highly unpleasant."

"If you-" Kirk was still laughing and Spock watched him take a deep breath to control himself. "If you would just _try_ it, I wouldn't have to smash your face into it! But that was _perfect_; I wish I had a camera..." he trailed off, licking his ice cream cone cheerfully. "Really, Spock, just try the ice cream instead of me having to force you to."

"You could not force me, Captain," Spock said coldly.

"I think I just proved that I could," Kirk said playfully, watching him.

Spock clenched his teeth, nostrils flaring. "Are you going to relinquish your childish actions?"

"Sure, if you try it. I won't have to force you once you experience ice cream."

Spock reached for the two spoons that were laying discarded on the picnic table.

"Eating it with a spoon is _so_ stupid, Spock," Kirk muttered. "That's not how you're supposed to experience an ice cream cone."

Spock ignored him, digging the spoon into the treat that humans were so enamoured by. "I am not going to enjoy this experience, Captain."

"Don't knock it before you try it," Kirk replied.

Spock sniffed in distaste before raising the spoon to his lips, placing it on his tongue. The reaction was instantaneous, much like from before; the cold from the ice cream sent a shock through his system. He removed the spoon from his mouth, letting the ice cream melt on his tongue. It was bitterly cold, so much so that it made his teeth ache and his tongue tingle. The sweetness of the strawberry flavour was almost overpowering.

"Well?" Kirk asked impatiently.

Spock swallowed the melting ice cream, licking his lips reflexively. "It is... quite..." He struggled for words. "... It is quite unlike anything I have experienced."

"What the hell does that mean? Did you like it or not?" Kirk demanded.

Spock licked his lips again, tasting the lingering effects of the strawberry. "I am not sure. The flavouring is... too sweet."

Kirk frowned. "But strawberry's delicious, Spock... Want to try mine? It's mint. Well, mint with chocolate pieces, but the ice cream's mint."

Spock hesitated before licking the remains of strawberry ice cream off of his spoon and stretching for Kirk's ice cream. He was met with his spoon being slapped out of his hand. He looked up at Kirk, eyebrows raised.

"You are not putting your spoon in my ice cream! I don't want your saliva! Here!" Kirk grumbled, grabbing the clean spoon and scooping up ice cream before handing it to Spock. "Honestly..."

Spock opted not to comment and instead settled with tasting the new ice cream. It was a lot less sweet than the strawberry and illogically more cold.

"Better?"

Spock nodded thoughtfully. "It would seem that it is less sweet than the strawberry. It is more desirable than my ice cream."

"Swap?" Kirk asked cheerfully.

"Pardon me?"

"You can have my ice cream, since you like the mint better, and I'll take the strawberry."

"This seems an illogical trade, Captain," Spock said, eyebrows raised again, "seeing as how you have already consumed half of your ice cream."

"Yeah, but you don't like it _that_ much, anyway..."

Kirk was transparent, or maybe Spock had just been spending too much time with him lately. Instead of arguing, Spock simply said "That would be acceptable".

Kirk beamed in triumph as they swapped ice cream cones.

Spock didn't mind. This experience, he thought as he hesitantly broke off a piece of the waffle cone to try, was purely for the sake of science. If he had to eat ice cream, he would rather it be something not overpowering, like artificially flavoured strawberry.

* * *

**Oh, so _what_ if Spock and ice cream has been written before? It's so frickin' _cute_. And I don't have to explain back story with these oneshots, so I don't have to imagine how Kirk got Spock to take an ice cream cone in the first place! More summer-time!Spock next chapter.**

**Thank you!**


	10. Just Turn the Air Conditioning On

_**J**__**ust turn the a/c on.**_

"Spock- holy _shit_."

Spock opened his eyes, looking up at Captain Kirk. "Yes?"

"It's _stifling_. I came to check on you because, well, obviously, it's hot and you're hanging out in my attic- again- and _how_ are you still _breathing_?"

"Easily, Captain," Spock replied, raising an eyebrow. "I find the temperature quite comfortable."

Kirk threw up his hands. "Okay. Stay here. I'm going back downstairs. Try not to die from heat stroke." He turned around and descended the attic stairs, slamming the door behind him.

* * *

Spock retreated from the attic after approximately five point seven hours of meditation. He had lost track of time, his mind had relaxed and, while sweat was literally pouring off of his body, he counted the whole situation as a success.

That was, until he pushed the attic door open and immediately met with a blast of frigid air. The involuntary gasp was enough indicator of the surprise as his body scrambled to compensate for the temperature difference.

His flesh breaking out in goose bumps almost immediately, Spock hastened down the hall to question what had so suddenly turned Kirk's Iowa home into an Earthly rebuild of Delta Vega.

He found Kirk sprawled out on the sofa, stripped down to only his underwear. Pursing his lips against annoyance, Spock fixed his gaze on Kirk. "Captain."

Kirk jumped, looking away from the television. "Spock! I forgot you were here."

"Would you explain why your home is suddenly on the frigid side of thirty-two degrees?" Spock asked, keeping his voice purposefully flat.

"I turned on the a/c. Isn't it great?" Kirk stretched his legs out across the sofa, yawning widely.

The Captain's complete disregard for a lack of privacy often unsettled Spock. That was a common fact. It was amplified tenfold when Spock ended up staying with Kirk in Iowa (which was more often than he wished to admit). Kirk traversed the rooms without knocking (_"It's my house, Spock!"_), he didn't bother to wear proper clothes if he didn't feel like it (same argument as mentioned), his sleeping patterns seemed to have no pattern at all, and he had brought home more women than Spock cared to count (even though Spock did know the number, sadly, even if he immediately vacated the premises if a woman was within thirty feet of the Iowa home).

It would have drove Spock to a brink of insanity had he not been a well-disciplined Vulcan.

"'A/c?'" Spock inquired.

"Air conditioning. Something you don't have on Vulcan," Kirk said, his eyes on the television again.

_How does one condition air, an inanimate, intangible vastness?_ was the first thought in Spock's mind, although he opted not to voice it. Instead, he commented that "I find myself grateful that New Vulcan does not have 'a/c', as you put it. The humid temperatures of our planet are most comfortable to me."

"Go back to your attic, then," Kirk said, waving a hand dismissively. "My attic. I'm trying to watch this."

"As much entertainment is to be found in our century's Earth television-"

"Shhh!"

Spock shivered infinitesimally, feeling vaguely ill to his stomach. "I will be upstairs if you need me."

Kirk didn't reply.

So it was that Spock ended up sprawled across two or three blankets thrown on the floor of the attic, clutching a pillow close as he slept in the attic to escape Kirk's ridiculous air conditioning.

Still, when he descended the attic stairs the next morning, he found no icicles on the ceiling, frost on the windows, or snow in the corridors. These were all mere whims of the mind; there was no logical way possible that these things could have occurred... although the frost would not have been such a radical assumption, given the temperature difference between the outdoors and indoors last night.

He paused in the hallway, eyebrows raised. He walked to the kitchen in preparation to make the morning breakfast, finding a note taped to the fridge as he turned to extract the eggs and milk from the fridge.

_Gone to bar for A/c. It's our compromise._  
_Jim_

Spock raised his eyes, abandoning the eggs and milk in favour of making himself Plomeek broth for breakfast.

Compromising wasn't so bad. Compromise, he could tolerate.

* * *

**Because it has been stupidly hot lately. I had to traverse through my attic earlier today; my thought was 'Yep! This is definitely Spock's temperature!' I, however, am not a Vulcan, so the attic is too warm and the central air gets too cold. But, all the same, welcome to summer on Earth, Spock.**

**McCoy in the next chapter!**

**Thank you!**


	11. Kite Flying Requires Much Concentration

_**K**__**ite flying requires much concentration. **_

Spock easily balanced his weight as he crossed the tree branch, one hand trailing against another branch just in case he should lose his balance.

"Come on, Spock! We aren't waiting for the damn sun to set!"

"If you recall, Doctor- ... McCoy... _you_ were the one who directed the kite towards the tree, even after Ca- Kirk's warning."

"The wind had it, Spock. What was I supposed to do, you green-blooded hobgoblin? Come on!"

Spock reached out, carefully disentangling the kite from the tree branches. How on Earth and all of Vulcan had he been elected to climb a tree and untangle a kite from its leaf-producing branches he did not know. But still, for the young offspring of Doctor McCoy, he had been elected all the same.

The kite fluttered gently to the ground.

"Thanks, Mr. Spock!" Joanna McCoy chirped, picking up the kite and looking up at her dad. "Let's try again!"

"Yeah, give the kite to Uncle Jim," McCoy said, smiling down at his daughter.

It was a rare show of unrestrained happiness for the doctor. McCoy had been initially stiff-lipped and angry about the fact that Spock had become part of his visit with his daughter, but he had eventually given into the smiling father he was being now. It was a radical change, one that Spock could tell McCoy was uncomfortable with by every accidental glance they shared.

Not to be deterred, however, McCoy, Kirk, and Joanna had began to try and fly a kite- a human activity that seemed to be even more illogical than cloud watching. More illogical and infinitely more trying, if Kirk and McCoy's muttered swear words were anything to go by.

"Wait... You got the string, Jo?... Alright, hang on... Hang on... Alright! Go, go, go! Run, Jim!" McCoy shouted.

"Don't tell me what to do, old man!" Kirk retorted, but he had taken off running as soon as the wind had picked up. When he had run a desirable distance or the designated distance for kite flying, he released the kite and Spock watched with an eyebrow raised as the wind took the kite.

"Yes, yes, yes!" Kirk came to a stop, punching the air in a mark of triumph. "We did it, Jo! Let the string out!"

McCoy was crouched next to Joanna, helping her with the string. The speed of which the wind was taking the kite, the length of the kite string, and the direction of the wind arrived Spock at an unfortunate conclusion.

The string whisked away from Joanna's hand, even out of reach of McCoy's grasp.

"The kite!" Kirk exclaimed at the same time that McCoy shouted "Kirk, get it!"

Joanna didn't say anything, although she looked stricken and started running after the child's toy along with Kirk and McCoy.

Spock jumped out of the tree, landing lightly. His eyes stayed on the two men and the one child (although the designation of 'child' was debatable, given Kirk and McCoy's actions) as they chased down the kite.

It all seemed like such a strange past-time. A lot of running, a lot of failed attempts and what sort of enjoyment was derived from watching a piece of coloured paper fly? Spaceships flew nowadays; Spock found it amazing that children still found enjoyment from watching kites fly in this century.

Be that as it were, Spock had never understood human childhoods. Vulcan children experienced much different, much more harsh, lifestyles.

"Dammit, Jim!"

"It's not my fault. You were supposed to be holding onto the string!"

"Daddy, are we going to get another kite?"

"Yes, JoJo, we can... How's about some ice cream first, though? And then Uncle Jim will buy you whatever kite you like."

"Hey!" Kirk protested.

"You didn't catch it when it flew away; you pay for it!" McCoy shot back, grinning.

"Make Spock pay for it," Kirk countered, looking at him.

Spock raised an eyebrow. "I see no reason for my spending money on an activity in which I do not partake."

"Mr. Spock can find you fantastic new kite, JoJo," McCoy said coyly. "Would you like that, darling?"

Joanna turned big brown eyes on Spock. "Really, Mr. Spock? Would you?"

Spock hesitated for only a moment, flickering his gaze between McCoy and Kirk. Both of the men were smiling, obviously pleased with themselves. Spock looked back at Joanna.

"I... do not believe that it would be a problem, Miss McCoy," he said. "I will endeavour to find a kite while you, your father, and Jim have ice cream."

"No, you have to come with us to have ice cream!" Joanna protested, grabbing his hand. "Please?"

A spark of childish enthusiasm, of utmost happiness and cheerfulness, laced with pure contentedness and obliviousness shot through Spock's veins at the touch. He did not recognise the feeling. He did not pull away from Joanna, either, as much as his Vulcan heritage loathed physical contact.

"Jo-"

"I will accompany you if you wish it," Spock said, over McCoy.

"Yay!"

McCoy raised an eyebrow, sharing a glance with Kirk. "He never does anything that I want to do that easily."

"Maybe you should bat your eyelashes at him, Bones," Kirk said, fluttering his eyelashes playfully.

McCoy slapped him across the chest, making Kirk laugh breathlessly. "You'd have to kill me before I bat _anything_ at that green-blooded hobgoblin."

"Daddy says you have green blood!" Joanna said suddenly, looking up at Spock. "Why do you have green blood?"

Spock looked down at her. "Because I am a Vulcan."

"When I get pistachio ice cream, it's green. Do you like pistachio ice cream?" Joanna asked.

"... I have never experienced the phenomenon."

"You can share mine!"

McCoy snickered. "Yeah, share hers, Spock."

Spock looked up at McCoy. "I thought that, as her father, you would be more offended that she is bonding with me and not with you," he said.

The smile melted off of McCoy's face. "Quit while you're ahead, Spock. Just quit while you're ahead."

Spock raised his eyebrows, looking back ahead.

* * *

**Alert! Alert! Potential inaccuracies! Alert!**

**Really, I have no idea how old Joanna is- I couldn't find it anywhere. I just know there's canon references to McCoy having a daughter, and maybe she's supposed to be older. But I have the mental picture of Joanna being younger, so I'm sorry if this bothers anyone if I got it wrong, but on the other hand... Dad!McCoy. And yeah, so DeForest's McCoy seems more father material than Karl's McCoy at this point, in my opinion, but you have to admit it's still cute. Especially when Spock gets dragged into it.**

**Thank you!**


	12. Let Others Know Your Weaknesses

_**L**__**et others know your weaknesses.**_

Spock felt his stomach metaphorically drop out when he walked into Jim's kitchen one afternoon. The scent in the air was unmistakable and he resisted the urge to sneeze or shiver.

He turned and strode out of the kitchen, walking straight to the living room.

"Jim."

Kirk looked up immediately from his video game, his eyebrows drawn together. "What? What's going on?"

Spock straightened up. "Captain, why is... why does the kitchen appear to be covered in cinnamon?"

Kirk's frown, if possible, became more prominent. "I found some ants crawling on the countertops earlier. Cinnamon repels them. Why?"

Spock almost, but not quite, frowned. "Ants."

"Yeah, the annoying little tiny ones. What's the problem?"

Spock took a breath, although all he could smell was cinnamon. It was illogical because he had not been in the kitchen long enough, had not moved anything to bother the cinnamon dust. "Cinnamon acts as an aphrodisiac for Vulcans."

If he were anyone else, and if he wasn't fighting against things he didn't wish to think about, Spock would have found Kirk's reaction humourous.

"_Cinnamon_?" Kirk gasped, throwing the game controller down. "Are you _kidding_ me?"

"I do not jest, Captain."

"But... _cinnamon_? Is it just when you eat it or does the smell make..." he trailed off, frowning as he seemed to realise what he was saying.

"It would seem logical that only then consumption of cinnamon would have an effect, but I must admit that the smell is not... pleasant."

"Well, if it's not pleasant, then it can't be an aphrodisiac," Kirk said matter-of-factly.

Spock frowned minutely. "Captain, I am not comfortable with the presence of cinnamon in this house-"

Kirk held up his hands. "I'll clean it up. And open the windows. Or maybe you should just hang around outside until I have it all cleaned up-"

"I will meditate. In the attic," Spock said, already turning away. The whole downstairs was beginning to smell like cinnamon. Meditation was the only solution. And, like Kirk had said, opening the windows. There was no way that he could stay in the house if the scent of cinnamon was going to pervade the halls.

Spock just held his breath until he was safely locked away in the attic.

* * *

**Short chapter, but you know I had to work cinnamon in. Anyway, this was inspired by a moment in my life- literally me throwing cinnamon all over the kitchen countertops because we have an ant problem and cinnamon (is supposed to) helps. I thought of Spock and there you have Chapter Twelve.**

**Warning: Angst in the next chapter. The next few chapters aren't going to be humour, more of light h/c (with the exception of the letter M, because that one's just angst).**

**I still do not own _Star Trek_. Thank you!**


	13. Mourning Occurs in Different Varieties

_**M**__**ourning occurs in different varieties. **_

Different people mourned the loss of a close friend or family member in different ways. On the planet Wiethals, a raucous celebration was thrown. On Nomidtron IV, the entire family sat vigil for up to a week after burial. On Earth, there were many varieties to mourning the loss of someone important. Anger, sadness, attempts to be merry in remembrance...

Spock was experiencing one way of mourning by design of watching Captain Kirk sit stoically on the sofa.

Spock had had the displeasure of being woken up at three in the morning by the home communicator system. It rang when someone hailed, sounding like a 21st century telephone ring, loud and obnoxious and shrill. No one usually hailed Jim at his Iowa home, so Spock had been momentarily confused as to what the source of noise was.

He had pushed himself out of bed, trudged to Jim's bedroom, and was prepared to knock and make an inquiry of whom was calling so late when he caught the conversation through the closed door.

_"We just found him dead this morning, Jim. No sign of foul play, but cause undetermined, I just don't understand Jim; he was perfectly healthy last night, he and the kids were running around..." sobbed the voice at the end of the communicator. "I just can't believe he's gone."_

_Spock shifted minutely, his hand still poised to knock. Dead. Someone was dead, someone that was clearly close to Captain Kirk. Spock lowered his hand. Eavesdropping was a disregard for privacy and boundaries, but he deemed it logical to see if it was someone that he had known._

_"How... Shit," __Kirk's voice muttered. "I don't know... I don't..."_

_"Jimmy, what am I supposed to tell the kids? They're only three and five, Jim; they aren't going to understand!"_

_"Just..." Kirk's voice trailed off, followed by a sigh._

_"__I'm so sorry, Jim, I'm so, so sorry."_

_"Look, listen, we'll get through this. We'll... We will. You need to go home, need to get some rest... alright? I'll call you tomorrow."_

_Spock had found that even once he had ascertained that he had not known the person- the nickname for Kirk signified family or close friend to Spock's ears- he was not able to move. Kirk's voice was so very lost that, even while it was illogical, Spock had to stay and listen._

_It was because of his trying to rationalise this infringement of Jim's privacy that he didn't hear the footsteps. He almost flinched when Kirk wrenched the bedroom door open and nearly walked straight into him._

_"Captain. Jim. My apologies; I simply meant to-"_

_"It's my brother," Kirk said emotionlessly. "He's dead."_

Spock would never forget the look in Kirk's eyes at that moment. He wasn't a sensationalist by any means, but he wouldn't. The look was one of pure anguish, not dissimilar to a child who had just been given devastating news. It was haunting.

Three days had gone by since the late night news and now it was the day of the funeral. Kirk was sitting on the couch, expression void, as it had been. His fingers were steepled together in a way that Spock was familiar with in his own contemplative moods.

He and his Captain had barely spoken ten words over the course of the past three days.

"Captain, if you wish to arrive at a presentable time, it would be wise to leave now for the funeral service," Spock said, an unwarranted layer of hesitance to the sentence. "The service is scheduled to begin in-"

"Spock," Kirk interrupted, looking at him.

Spock analysed him for a moment, closing his mouth. He asked Jim's purpose without voicing a word.

"You're going with me, right?" Kirk's cocky, self-assured tone was clearly trying to make itself heard, but Spock recognised the pained, raw emotion below the words.

"It would be my honour, Captain."

The words fell off his lips before he could even think about it. He thought that maybe it was a display of sentiment but ultimately decided against it. It was only logical that he was there when Jim needed the moral support. Illogically, there was something about the strength in friendship and Jim Kirk considered him a friend. _He_ considered Jim Kirk to be a friend, his best friend (dare he say t'hy'la for the implications involved? he often wondered). Such an act of... friendship was only logical.

"Allow me a few moments to change," he added, turning to stride from the room.

* * *

**I warned you that there was angst. Jim's brother's death was canon in _Operation: Annihilate! _(best episode ever, imo).**

**Not particularly _angst_, per se, next chapter, but... friendship/light h/c.**

**Thank you!**


	14. Nightlights Combat Nightmares?

_**N**__**ightlights combat nightmares?**_

Spock awoke with a gasp, his fingers reaching for things that he could never grasp. He stared into the darkness of the bedroom, breathing heavily, as sweat dripped down his back and rolled down his temples.

Shore leave, unfortunately, did not remove the nuisance that was nightmares.

Spock pushed himself into a sitting position, shivering slightly. The room wasn't cold but his body was intent on telling him that it was. Useless signals. Spock sighed and got to his feet, padding silently to the bedroom door and then to the hallway.

He walked to the kitchen, rummaging through the fridge as quietly as he could manage, looking for the almond milk. He found it in the back of Kirk's refrigerator (of course, because Kirk hated it, because it was vegetarian). He returned Jim's food to its proper place when-

"Spock."

Spock- although he would never admit it nor forget it- jumped at the voice. His head hit the refrigerator and he winced, leaning out of the way of the fridge before standing.

"Sorry," Kirk apologised, dropping into a chair. "Didn't mean to scare you."

"You simply took me by surprise," Spock said, popping the tab on the almond milk and taking a glass from the cabinet. "Seeing as how you were asleep when I retired to my room."

"Couldn't sleep," Kirk said, resting his head on his arms. "Can't sleep."

"I share the sentiment," Spock said shortly, taking a sip of the milk. He leaned back against the countertop, struggling to dispel tiredness clinging to his body.

"I hate the missions that go wrong," Kirk muttered, raising his head. "Put the coffee on, will you?"

Spock didn't comment, although he did turn around and, setting down his glass, picked up the coffee pot. He added water for a six-cup brew and switched out the coffee grounds. It was years ago that he hadn't even known how to make human coffee without a replicator. It was a sad story that it was like clockwork now.

"Did you hook up a nightlight?" Kirk asked during their coffee and milk break. They had been sitting in silence, both probably close to falling asleep, at the kitchen table for the better part of twenty minutes.

Spock looked up from his coffee. "Pardon me?"

"A nightlight. Thing that shines light, illuminates your room."

"I understand what a... nightlight is," Spock said, "but the logic behind why I would have one is evading me."

Kirk rolled his eyes. "Because putting light in a dark room can help the nightmares? I used to have nightmares when I was a kid and mom always let me sleep with the lights on."

Spock frowned slightly. "I do not understand."

"With the lights on, you... you can see that your nightmares aren't real. That you're alright," Kirk said thoughtfully.

"Our mission is influencing the nightmares. The mission was real, and while we are alright, one hundred and seventy people are not."

Kirk sighed, pushing himself to his feet. "I know, Spock. I know; I was there, remember? They're _my_ crew; of course I know that those people aren't alright!" He rubbed his eyes. "Look... if you want to sleep, just try the light." He turned away, striding from the room.

Spock watched him go, inexplicable emotions trying to claw into his being. Before Spock could wonder what the emotion was for, there were footsteps coming back in signal to Kirk's return.

"Here," Kirk said from the doorway, throwing an object.

Spock reflexively raised a hand to catch it. When Spock glanced at the object, he found his fingers curled around a small, orb-like structure, that was radiating a very low level of heat and an acceptable amount of light to illuminate the kitchen.

"Night orb. Make it as bright or dull as you like."

Spock curled his fingers around the orb again, looking at Kirk. "Thank you."

Kirk nodded before turning away, returning to, presumably, his bedroom. Spock placed the night orb on the table, idly rolling it under his fingers.

It was illogical, but perhaps a nightlight, this night orb, _could_ help the nightmares. It was illogical... but mostly everything that worked on earth was.

* * *

**I think I'm losing some of my readers due to the lack of humour. I'm sorry. I like h/c. Somewhat humour is back in the next chapter, if you're one of those people who are getting bored with the seriousness.**

**Nightlights. Because Spock would have no idea what a nightlight would be for. Silly Vulcan. :)**

**Thank you!**


	15. Only Go to the Beach if You Can Swim

_**O**__**nly go to the beach if you can swim.**_

"Come on, Spock!" Kirk yelled, scrambling over rocks.

"Captain, I deem this most unwise," Spock replied, taking more care in climbing the rocky landscape.

"Yeah, so?" Kirk's bare feet slipped on one of the rocks, slippery with the mist of the ocean, and he narrowly missed cracking his head open on the rocks. "... Ow."

"Captain?" Spock hastened to Kirk's side, just as his Captain sat up. There was blood staining his palms where he had caught himself.

"Don't say it," Kirk warned, getting to his feet. He wiped his hands on his swimming trunks and inspected the wounds. "It's just a few scratches. Don't say it."

Spock raised an eyebrow as Kirk scrambled away. Clearly, his Captain was still intent on diving off of the most height-efficient rock to go for a swim. Spock followed at a regulated pace, his body assailed with a nervous-like tension. Being around so much water unsettled him in ways that he did not care to admit.

"It's perfect, Spock," Kirk said, stopping on the rocky overhang that he had searched out.

"I do not understand the appeal of diving from great heights into the ocean," Spock replied.

"Because," Kirk said, as though he were in on some secret that Spock didn't know about. "It's _fun_."

Spock barely had time to think, let alone react, to the events that unfolded thereafter.

Kirk shoved him, just enough to put him at a disadvantage, off balance. He lost his footing on the slippery rock and tumbled over the overhang. Water consumed him impossibly quickly, surrounding him. He clamped his mouth shut after inhaling water and lashed out frantically.

It was then and only then that Spock realised that perhaps he should have said that he didn't know how to swim.

Logic dictated that, somewhere in his muddled mind, there was a set of instructions for swimming. Unfortunately, Spock couldn't seem to grasp them as he struggled to get back to the surface.

Holding one's breath was logical in such a situation, but he hadn't gotten a breath before falling and already his lungs were screaming for oxygen. His mind felt, inexplicably, foggy. He couldn't move, couldn't breathe-

He gasped involuntary when something caught the collar of his shirt. Water rushed into his mouth and he coughed and spluttered, trying to breathe through the water. Panic turned into surprise when he broke the surface and he gasped in oxygen, precious oxygen, clinging to anything stable to keep himself from sinking again.

"Didn't anyone ever tell you can't float unless you relax?" Kirk's voice demanded.

Kirk had been the factor to get him out of the water, apparently. Spock couldn't formulate a response. He was still too low on oxygen. His hands, however, of their own accord, gripped Kirk's arms tightly as an act of self-preservation. He did not want to go back under that water.

"Hey, ow- it's okay. Spock- Spock!"

Spock forced himself to loosen his grip- infinitesimally. He tried to regulate his breathing, to breathe instead of gasp, but his mind was frenzied and demanding, irrational, illogical terror besmirching his thought process.

"Just breathe..."

Illogical command, as he was already breathing.

Spock took another few deep breaths, still clinging to Kirk's arms. He managed to form an idea, a word, a sentence, in his mind. The only task was getting it to his lips. "Ca-Captain, I require dr-dry land at once," he stammered.

"Yeah, I get it, Spock, but I can't swim without my arms; you need to let go."

"I will not," Spock retorted immediately, gripping Jim's arms tighter.

"Spock, I'm not going to let you drown- shit, you're strong. Okay, Spock- Spock! Look at me," Kirk demanded. "You're going to be fine. Just- ow- look, kick your feet. Don't you know the mechanics?"

"Jim, I cannot swim."

"There's the understatement of the day," Kirk muttered. "Okay, look, just-"

Spock's mind went momentarily blank in panic when Kirk dislodged his grip. He gripped Jim's hands tightly, desperate to keep his face above water.

"It's not so bad," Kirk said, not making a move towards action. "You need to relax, though, or you're never going to float."

"I d-do not wish to float. I do not wish to swim at all, Ca-Captain," Spock managed, although his mind was making logical connections and his eyes apparent observations about swimming. Perhaps if he could mimic Captain Kirk's movements...

"Well, I feel like an ass for pushing you in, so I'm giving you a swimming lesson, free of charge!" Kirk said cheerfully, although his tone did not match the look in his eyes.

"I do not wish to learn, Ca-Captain. While I appreciate... understand... your sentiment of making up for a careless action, I d-do not wish to partake in an impromptu sw-swimming lesson."

"Spock. Relax."

Spock licked salt water from his lips, looking intently at Kirk. Learning to swim was a logical course, of action, one that he had always been exempt from in Academy due to Vulcan's regard of water, but... perhaps. It was logical, wasn't it? Except that terror wasn't logical. It was an emotion.

And yet, so was trust. At the moment, Spock had no choice but to trust Jim Kirk.

Spock took a deep breath and closed his eyes momentarily, allowing his mind to recollect. He then re-opened his eyes and looked at Kirk, nodding ever-so-slightly.

* * *

**Okay, I _know_ that Spock being unable to swim isn't canon with _The Voyage Home_ (swimming with whales!), but there are some things that _aren't_ canon in Reboot!verse (Spock/Uhura, anyone?) so... Spock being unable to swim is one of my little headcanons. Maybe that's because I can't swim. :p**

**Still, the best mental picture? Spock clinging to Kirk like a drenched, terrified cat thrown in a lake. This is my favourite drabble so far.**

**I still do not own _Star Trek_. Thank you for your lovely reviews last chapter, as with every chapter. I look forward to your comments! :)**


	16. Pranks are Common and Illogical

**_Pranks are common and illogical._**

"Rah!"

Spock raised an eyebrow at Kirk as the Captain had jumped out from behind the corner, hands extended as though they were claws.

"Yes?" Spock asked.

Kirk frowned. "You ruin everything."

Spock's eyebrows were in danger of disappearing into his hairline as Kirk turned and strode away.

* * *

Spock didn't open his eyes, although he heard his bedroom door swing open- silently, for anyone not a Vulcan- and his floorboards shift under someone's weight. Being that this was Jim Kirk's house, and considering in the fact that Kirk had brought no women home last night, it could only be one person.

Spock kept his eyes closed. Up until the point that he heard something being shaken up.

He snapped his eyes open, staring up at Kirk, who was caught, as humans said, red-handed, with a can of shaving cream in his hand.

"Is this actually necessary?" Spock intoned dryly.

Kirk gave an abashed smirk before turning and running out.

* * *

"Try it."

"I do not wish to."

It seemed that a lot of Spock and Kirk's conversations began like this when it involved Spock trying some obscure human food.

"Try it."

Spock relented- it was almost a reflex by this point- and took a bite of the cookie that was offered. It took him point three seven seconds to realise that Kirk's intentions were less than sincere. He swallowed the bite of the cookie, although he set the rest down.

"Cinnamon," he said, turning away.

"No, molasses!" Kirk replied.

"With cinnamon." Spock didn't look back, going to get a drink from the fridge.

Spock could practically hear the grin in Kirk's voice as he replied "One of these days, Spock, I'll get you".

"'Get me'?" Spock questioned, twisting the cap off a bottle of water.

"Prank you."

"I'll keep it in mind, Captain."

* * *

Spock clenched his teeth in annoyance, staring into the lake. The inordinate amount of time that Kirk wished to spend near water was acceptable for a hot summer on earth, but why was it necessary for Kirk to want to strip down _every time_ that he saw an acceptable outlet for swimming? And why did it always seem to happen when Spock was around? Spock did not wish to stand around and watch his Captain swim. He would rather be at home with his science reports from the latest mission.

"Come on, Spock! You're alright at swimming now and it's barely ten feet," Kirk said cheerfully, swimming by. "And it's nice and cool and- ow!"

Spock snapped his head to Kirk as his Captain vanished beneath the water's surface. The water was too murky (another reason that Spock did not wish to join Kirk in the water) to see where he had gone. Spock frowned slightly, head tilting. Kirk did not come back up.

"... Captain?" Spock called, watching for movement or bubbles of oxygen.

He received no response. It was well into thirty seconds and, while thirty seconds wasn't a terribly long amount of time, Spock was well-aware that several human beings could only hold their breath for twenty to forty seconds.

"Jim?"

Panic, quite literally panic, crawled up his spine and settled somewhere against the back of his neck.

"Captain!"

Before he could give it more thought, he had wrenched his tricorder off and let it fall to the ground, fumbling for the hem of his science uniform. He dove into the water, taking care to have a great breath of oxygen beforehand.

Like Captain Kirk had said, he was marginally competent at swimming now, but it didn't mean that he enjoyed it at all.

He broke the surface for a breath of air. He spun in a circle, gauging for the logical place for Kirk to be.

"Gotcha!"

Spock spun around, staring at Kirk, whom had just broke the surface of the water behind him. The Captain was breathing heavily but grinning widely as he shook his hair of his face.

"... You tricked me," Spock said.

Kirk beamed. "Yes! Honestly, Spock, did you actually think I'd drown in a little lake? For all of your logic, you can be-"

Spock stopped listening. He spun around and began swimming back for the edge of the grass. He hauled himself back onto land, swiping his bangs out of his eyes. Unsuccessfully, he tried to unstick his plastered-on black undershirt from his upper torso. He calmly picked up his shoes, tricorder, and uniform shirt, ignoring Kirk yelling his name as he walked away.

* * *

**Kirk is so evil and cute.**

**I do not own _Star Trek_. Again, thank you for all the reviews and I look forward to hearing your thoughts as usual. :)**


	17. Quietude Can Be Difficult to Find

_**Q**__**uietude can be difficult to find.**_

Spock wearily pressed the heel of his hand against his forehead, ignoring the impossibility of his situation. He was starting to get a headache.

Captain Kirk, on their last day of leave before they were to begin an eighteen month mission, had decided to throw a party. The house was a mess. There was music pounding loudly enough to make the lamps tremble. There were people shouting and running around and there was far too much consumption of alcohol happening on the premises.

Spock sighed in annoyance and pushed himself to his feet. He grabbed his jacket from the closet and stride out, making sure to lock the bedroom door behind him.

He weaved his way through the crowd of people in the house, gritting his teeth every time that someone so much as brushed their sleeves against each other.

Spock stepped outside after too many tedious seconds, wincing slightly as a shout echoed from the open windows. There was some sort of raucous drinking game occurring in the kitchen. Spock had had to hold his breathe as he walked through due to the overwhelming scent of warm beer and whiskey.

He took a deep breath of the clear, autumn air. It was slightly cool for Earth's autumn and it left Spock to zip up his jacket and huddle down for warmth. He didn't mind, though. Anything was better than listening to a bunch of human men behaving like Altomin children.

He was faced with the ideology that there was simply nothing to do. It was too chilly to be standing outside for any period of time, especially for Spock. His Vulcan heritage sought warmth and he would not find it outdoors during Earth's autumn. He had no means of transportation. Kirk had told him that his hoverbike was off limits, something about _she's brand new! I gave the other one away when I enlisted in Starfleet and I don't want you getting a scratch on her!_ Not that Spock minded, particularly. He didn't want to travel via hoverbike. He certainly didn't want to call for transportation, as it were, because... He just didn't traverse town like Kirk did. Spock was much more content to be curled up in his quarters- the extra bedroom- with holobooks and his PADD.

He was a Vulcan stuck on earth occasionally. What else could be expected?

Spock walked for a while. Eventually, he came upon what appeared to be an old-fashioned Earth storm cellar. Fascinating; storm cellars had been unnecessary for some time due to advances in building homes. He would need to recalculate the relative age of the Kirk farm.

Spock crouched down and tested the double door handles. They were stuck. With a little bit of Vulcan strength and what was probably a lot of decay on the door hinges, he managed to swing the doors open.

The storm cellar was covered in cobwebs and spiders. Spock raised an eyebrow and descended the few stairs, the cellar doors falling shut behind him with a loud clanging noise. He was enveloped in darkness that even his Vulcan eyes had trouble adjusting to.

"Fascinating..."

He descended the last of the stairs and stepped foot onto the dirt ground.

* * *

Spock squinted into the brightness of daylight when sunlight streamed into the cellar.

"Spock?"

Spock arched an eyebrow. "Captain?"

"Spock, my-" Kirk paused to cough, jumping the stairs. He flinched when the cellar doors fell shut. "Shit. My locator said you were here, but I didn't even know _this_ was here..." He glanced around before looking at Spock, who had lit up the small cellar with his PID (portable illumination device). "I kinda wondered where you went when I didn't find you in the house..."

"Your party," Spock said, slight disdain creeping into his tone, "did not suit to my tastes."

Kirk actually looked embarrassed at that. "Uh, yeah... Sorry about that. I saw you leave but I never saw you come back, so I wondered... Everyone's leaving, well, they will be soon, anyway... We turned the music off and everything. I just figured, you know, last night of shore leave..."

Spock inclined his head slightly. "Understandable, from your point of view... I believe."

"Yeah, well..." Kirk perked up. "Let's go back. It's a hell of a mess, but it's cold out here."

"I can concur with that statement," Spock said, getting to his feet. Goose flesh had risen on his arms and he was shivering slightly now that he was out of his meditative state. "I will accompany you back to our lodgings now."

"We've still got leftover chips and popcorn. Movie night?" Kirk asked enthusiastically.

Spock resisted from rolling his eyes.

Kirk's enthusiasm never ceased to amaze.

* * *

**I don't know. I just have a tendency to hide Spock in weird places. I just think it's adorable.**

**Thank you for your support... Keep it up! :D**


	18. Relationships Come and Go

_**Relationships come and go. **_**Often_, with James Kirk._**

Spock walked in on the Captain and unidentified blonde women in a compromising position on the sofa. He promptly turned and walked back out, but not before the unidentified female in question gave a shrill shriek that made Spock's eardrums ache.

Spock didn't look back as the barrage of cursing and the frantic female voice carried down the hall.

"Spock!"

It was hardly his fault. Captain Kirk had invited him into his house; he knew that he was staying here. Yes, he had been out scouting earlier, but he had hardly specified what time he would be back. It was Kirk's own fault for his spontaneous sexual appetite.

He closed himself into his room, permitting himself the briefest of sighs.

* * *

"How long have you and Uhura been... you know."

Spock raised an eyebrow. "Pardon me?"

"How long have you been screwing her?"

Spock felt both of his eyebrows shoot up at the question. Not for the nature of the personal thought but rather the derogatory way of asking. "The Lieutenant and I have been in what I believe is called a relationship for approximately seventeen months and three days."

Kirk choked on his coffee. _"What?"_

"What is wrong?"

"Seventeen months? That's, like, a year and a half."

"One year, five months, and three days to be precise," Spock replied, his lips turning towards the slightest hint of a frown. "What is the matter?"

"That is a _long_ time. And how on _earth_ has Uhura found satisfaction in _you_ for a year and a half?"

"One year, five mon-"

"Yeah, I got it," Kirk muttered, taking another drink of his coffee.

"At the present, it seems that only _you_, Captain, have a problem maintaining a relationship that lasts longer than the duration of sexual intercourse," Spock commented, dryly.

"No!" Kirk protested. "I layer on the pick-up lines and _then_ we have sex. Generally." He grinned a grin that showed no remorse.

Spock was plastered with the theory that Kirk may regret his actions concerning sexual intercourse at some point in his life. Maybe not now, because he clearly thought that he was doing _something_ right- albeit if Spock did not understand the appeal of engaging in intercourse with any woman that could move, think, and breath- but sometime. Perhaps that moment would be when James Kirk accidentally ended up getting someone pregnant. Spock wondered if even that would stop Captain Kirk's antics_._

_However_, that was not Spock's place to ponder. He dismissed the thoughts.

* * *

_"Son of a- Get_ out_!"_

"Why do you always seem so surprised at my presence, when I am here on your invitation?" Spock asked, not moving from the doorway. "We are being hailed. They need extra hands at Starbase Three and we have been elected, as we are the closest ship in the area."

Kirk, naked except for a pair of boxers, was scrabbling to grab a blanket. The woman (a redhead with green eyes this time) was doing that, too, to say the least. At least, Spock reasoned with himself, he had walked in while they _both_ had articles of clothing at least partially on. Kirk would be disagreeable the entire day if Spock had walked in on them both being... 'at it', as Kirk so eloquently put it.

"I don't _care_ _where_ or _what_ we're needed for! I'll get ready without you standing in my doorway! _Get out!_"

Spock raised an eyebrow and forced back the _very_ human comeback that bounced into his mind. He was spending too much time with Captain Kirk; his attitude was starting to wear off on him. How... insulting.

"Time is of the essence," he said instead.

"Out. Get out!"

Spock stepped out of Kirk's doorway and closed the door behind him.

Again, Spock found himself contemplating on when Kirk would ever grow up.

Not when. _If_.

* * *

**The humorous thing is... If Abrams follows the canon, Kirk _will _get a certain someone pregnant (and I won't say, to avoid spoilers) at some point. Granted, I am aware that Abrams does not follow the canon all the time. Still, it's one of many possibilities. Old Jim Kirk was just a lady's man, but new Kirk is definitely a womaniser. We'll see.**

**I'll get back to the fluffy friendship stuff next chapter. I thought some guy humour might cause a few laughs.**

**I do not own _Star Trek_. Thank you!**


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